


Heartbreak

by Wildly_Fangirling



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Angst, Poor Eliot, angsty childhood, he deserved better, my first fic/drabble thing, sorry in advance, this scene broke me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildly_Fangirling/pseuds/Wildly_Fangirling
Summary: Basically I got tired of all the nonfiction shit we do in school so I decided I'm going to start writing! Whether it sucks or not.





	Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I got tired of all the nonfiction shit we do in school so I decided I'm going to start writing! Whether it sucks or not.

“I can’t be the dad that turns his back on his kid.” 

His words came from Indiana, from the day he killed someone, and from all the other days his father rolled his eyes and walked away not giving a second thought to his embarrassment of a son. His pain came from the constant neglect that haunted him for years, hell, still haunts him and probably always will. His insistence came from the scars left by the alcohol that he used to numb the pain, the drugs that he used to disguise it, and the sex that he used to distract from it.

“I’m not your daughter.”

Pure shock reigned the room, until the heartbreak settled in. It merely affirmed what Eliot already knew, what he had come to refuse. He saw that Fen loved her, and loved her the same, just differently, quietly, afraid to show the Fairy what she wanted. Enveloped in a false idea that was so comforting it became suffocating and choked him till he was speechless with tears in his eyes.

“Your real daughter died during childbirth.”

His real daughter. The daughter he didn’t want. The child he rejected before he even knew her, out of fear, or was it spite. He told himself he hated her, it was all he’d known could come from a parent, but maybe he envied her. Envied the idea of wanting parents, of a good life, of royalty, of not having to claw for every piece of recognition. Of happiness.

Now he felt pain, and ache in his chest he couldn’t describe, as if every hope he had ever held was torn to shreds. The pain Eliot felt was so unlike the subtle one he had felt for years, it was a red, hot, burning pain, one that would take so much more to fix. One he could never fix.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
